


Doitsch Bag

by ekim



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Sex, Eventual Smut, Hand Jobs, Homophobic Language, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Rating May Change, also he's power hungry lol, medic is a dickwad, medic likes heartbeats, scout probably likes dudes, sorta non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-09-28 22:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17191625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ekim/pseuds/ekim
Summary: okay if you actually clicked on this even though the pun was god awful, then congrats! here's some cake. 🍰oh, this is also my first fic of tf2 i've ever posted so just bear with me folks. criticism is always appreciated! thanks lol





	1. Tachycardia

**Author's Note:**

> okay if you actually clicked on this even though the pun was god awful, then congrats! here's some cake. 🍰
> 
> oh, this is also my first fic of tf2 i've ever posted so just bear with me folks. criticism is always appreciated! thanks lol

Medic adjusted his spherical glasses as he read the first name on the sheet of paper attached to a bloodstained clipboard. Scout would be the second to receive his recently discovered medical breakthrough. Medic didn’t have a name for the invulnerability his creation generated, but was thinking something along the lines of Wütensicher or Übercharge. He shrugged; names could wait until later. It was time to practice medicine.  
The medic elbowed one of the infirmary doors open and looked up from the clipboard. All eyes fell to him and he drank up every last bit of the attention. He kept his delight hidden and scanned from mercenary to mercenary, watching as their nerves crumbled under his compelling gaze.  
“Scout, you are up.”  
“Awh, ye-eah!” Scout jumped up from the waiting chair. He grinned and shot finger guns at his teammates as he walked down the line of mercs to the infirmary doors. Medic rolled his eyes once Scout walked past him and into the infirmary. Scout’s raw enthusiasm was off putting; Medic preferred his teammates to fear him rather than enjoy his presence.  
“Please sit on the exam table. I vill be right vith you.”  
“Yanno, Doc, all da other guys are nervous about getting this whole operation thing from ya, but I don’t see why. When you and Heavy just-” Scout stuck out his arm suddenly, making a chainsaw sound effect, “mowed through those BLUs like they was nothing and den came out without a scratch.. I was like _wow_. I mean, dat was pretty freakin’ epic.”  
Medic had tuned out his nonsensical blabber after a few moments of searching through medical documents for Scout’s. After making a mess of his already unorganized desk, he eventually located the papers. He clipped them to the bloodstained clipboard and crossed the room to his patient, clicking the pen several times in his other, gloved hand. Medic absolutely hated the mandatory check-ups before operations. They would always take up too much time and had of zero value to him. But, of course, if he did not record the information of those he operated on, then the Administration would have his head.  
“I aschume zhat your veight, height, und age are zhe same since our last visit?”  
“Mhm. 25 years old, 6 foot, and 162 pounds’a pure muscle. Look at dis, Doc!” Scout flexed an arm and prodded the small bulge of muscle with his opposing finger.  
“Vell, last time I measured you, you vere 5 foot, 10 inches. Boys at your age don’t grow 2 inches within a three month time span.”  
“Same difference. An’ don’t call me ‘boy’! I’m a _man_ ,” he grumbled.  
“Ja, okay. Put your arm out so I can check your blood pressure.” Medic had no will to argue with Scout, as it was pointless, but more so because he wanted to begin the surgery.  
The boy obeyed and allowed the doctor to velcro the inflatable cuff around his scrawny bicep. Medic squeezed the plastic bulb and read the dial. Blood pressure was perfectly normal, as expected. He removed the cuff and placed it to the side, remembering to record his data. Quickly, he scribbled in the corresponding measurements.  
“Finally, I vill check your heart rate. Take a few deep breaths and relax for me, bitte?”  
Scout closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, exhaling through his nose. As he continued to calm himself, Medic plucked one of his red gloves off and set it down with the pen and clipboard.  
“Sehr gut. Now, try not to talk vhile I do zhis,” Medic instructed, although the Scout had already been suspiciously quiet.  
He took two fingers and pressed them into the side of Scout’s neck, checking the clock on the wall. Several seconds passed with only silence and the pulse of both their hearts. The pulse of the carotid artery under his fingertips was just above the average bpm. It was most likely due to Scout’s sugary drink consumption and running habits. Beyond the medical purpose heartbeats held, the whole ideology of being able to control how fast or slow one went- especially one that was not his.. felt empowering.  
Something stirred inside the Medic. He wanted to feel the thrum of blood quicken. More specifically, he wanted to be the cause to it. The clock no longer mattered.  
“Uh, Doc? I know you told me not to speak or nothin’, but like, your kinda pressin’ a little hard on my neck there and it kinda hurts.”  
The doctor ignored the Scout’s complaint and searched his memory for something that would bring fear to the boy. _‘Wish dey had some chicks around here, ‘cause I ain’t into no dudes.’ ‘Hey, what’d I say about huggin’ me, Mumbles? I’m pretty sure you’re a dude, and I am not a fag!’ ‘Shut up, Spy! Stupid slug-sucking, butt fucker.’_  
Homosexualiy. Scout was afraid of homosexuality.  
“Doc?”  
Medic gripped the back of Scout’s head with his freehand, then lunged forward and connected their lips. Teeth clacked against each other when Scout attempted to flee, but Medic’s strong hand pushed his head forward.  
Scout’s heart rate increased violently, just as Medic had hoped. He grinned against Scouth’s mouth and even dared to chuckle as dominance flowed through him.  
“Get off’a me!” the boy managed to yell as he drove a wrapped hand in between their mouths. Medic obliged and released him, wiping his lips off with the back of his hand.  
“What is wrong with you! I- jeez, man! Why the fuck did you do that?” Scout looked like a wounded animal. His blue eyes were wide with a combination of fear, anger, and confusion, whilst the runner’s face had turned a shade of red.  
“I needed to test somezhing. Do not vorry, mein fruend, zhat was just a part of zhe check-up.”  
“Fuckin’ creep! Gawd..” Scout sighed. “Get this dumb surgery thing done wit’ and lemme leave.”  
“Vith pleasure.”


	2. Hyperthyroidism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been two weeks since all the mercenaries received new hearts. The incident with the Scout has been long forgotten by the Medic, but not the Scout. Medic is up late and scheming new ideas for his Medigun, when there's a knock at the door. Who could it be, but the Scout. Scout claims to be sick and begs for Medic to look him over, but that's not the only thing he begs for.

It was around midnight, and the Medic was still up. He’d been staying up to about 1:00 every night, working on different diagrams and designs for new versions of the Übercharge. Two weeks ago, the Medic had done surgery on all of the RED mercenaries to endow them with eight seconds of invulnerability once administered from the Medigun. It was a breakthrough at the time, and it still was, but now he wanted to push the limits of his Medigun’s abilities.  
One of his designs would allow the wielder of his Übercharge to have critical hits instead of an invulnerability. How he could implement the critical hits into the Medigun was unknown still, but the Medic was not willing to give up yet.  
He took a sip of coffee from his white mug and leaned back in his chair, twirling his pencil in between his fingers. He was about to continue working when a knock sounded from the infirmary doors. Medic slowly reached down for his bonesaw, his eyes locked on the shadow seeping in below the gap under the door. It wasn’t quite discernible due to the dim lights illuminating the hallway at night. If whoever knocked really needed him, then they would knock again.  
Another knock _and_ a voice. _Scout’s_ voice.  
“Doc, hey. Can ya let me in? I, uh. I don’t feel so good. Can ya check me ou- look me over?”  
Medic didn’t answer the supposed Scout’s question. He highly doubted that the Scout would be up at this time. Call him superstitious, but the infirmary doors were always locked after 10:00 o’clock. Spies were a very real threat.  
He stood up and slowly crept towards the doors, gloveless fingers tapping along the handle of his bonesaw.  
“How do I know zhis is not a Spy?”  
“What? Doc, I am not da fricken’ Spy.”  
“Prove it.”  
Medic heard feet shuffle on the floor from behind the door before the ‘Scout’ answered. “You stitched ya dumb bird into my chest a couple’a week ago.”  
“Zhat’s true, but zhe enemy Spy could know zhat by now.”  
“Medic, I’m not dat fuckin’ French bastard,” there was a long pause, “please, Doc, lemme in.”  
Cautiously, the Medic unbolted the door and popped open the latch. He nudged open the door, hiding his bonesaw behind the other.  
“Vhat do you vant?”  
“Oh, thank Gawd! Okay, so, my throat is real scratchy an’ uh, my arms hurt, too.”  
“If you came to me in zhe middle of zhe night just for a common cold, zhen-”  
Scout’s eyes grew wide and he waved his hands around defensively. “No, no! It’s not a cold, I swear!” He gave a suspicious sounding cough and looked up meekly, “ya see?”  
Medic groaned and glanced around the infirmary, weighing whether he should allow the Scout inside or not. His eyes fell to the runner, who was picking orbs of lint from his red shirt. Maybe it was because of the late nights and tired haziness that was claiming the Medic, but Scout looked as though he’d actually _groomed_ himself.  
Medic exhaled a loud sigh. “Fine.”  
“Thanks, Doc!” Scout happily rejoiced, pushing past the Medic and into the infirmary. Medic stuck his neck out to inspect the hallway, but found no one else and detected no foul scent of cigarettes.  
“Sit on zhe examination table,” he said whilst bolting the doors shut again.  
“Yeah, I know. Okay, so, I didn’t think that you were actually gonna be awake, but den I was like, ‘wouldn’t hurt ta check on him’, right? So, I went down here an’ looked in through da glass there an’ you were just sitting there! Den I thought, ‘why isn’t he movin’?’ and thought you were dead, so I knocked on da door. Den you actually answered the door, an-”  
Medic made a vigorous motion of setting his bonesaw down onto the desk. Sure enough, the Scout looked up and gawked.  
“You actually thought I was da Spy? Dude, you could’a killed me!”  
“Schout, it is-” Medic looked up at the ticking clock, “12:17. I have every right to believe zhat you are a Spy. Vhy you, of all people, vould come knocking on my door at zhis hour is somezhing I have yet to understand.”  
“I said dat I don’t feel good, Doc! What if I got blight or somethin’?”  
“Blight is a fungal disease, Scout. It affects plants und other leafy vegetation, not humans. Now, describe to me your symptoms.”  
“My throat’s kinda scratchy an’ my limbs are all achy. Oh, an’ I think I gotta fever goin’ on.”  
“Vell, I suppose Streptococcal Pharyngitis could be going around zhe base. Do you have pain vhilst svallowing?”  
“Oh, yeah! I do,” Scout perked up, then began coughing. “Hurts real bad when I’m drinkin’ an’ stuff..”  
“Let me have a look. Open your mouzh und say ‘awh’.”  
Scout obeyed, opening his mouth widely and sticking out his tongue.  
Medic rested his large hand on the boy’s shoulder for leverage, leaning down and grasping his chin with the other. He angled the boy’s chin upwards for a better view and looked inside. Other than the casual filling and crown, his mouth, as well as his throat, seemed perfectly normal.  
Just then, Medic caught movement with his peripherals. He looked down and noticed how Scout was kicking his legs back and forth; his wrapped hands fidgeting with the paper laid out on the exam table. Why was the Scout acting so anxious?  
“Junge, vhy are y-” Medic was suddenly cut off when his patient leapt forward, wrapping both his arms around the doctor’s shoulders and kissing him. Scout was kissing him, and kissing him _hard_.  
Those wrapped hands were grabbing at his vest, fingers digging into the fabric. It was evident that the Scout would not be letting go without a fight. His lips were chapped from the dry air and wind he constantly ran through, whilst his own were smooth and soft. It paid off to use carmex every once in a while.  
Medic’s shoulders were tensing with each passing moment Scout’s lips were against his. He gruffed, pulling the Scout’s body forward and running his hand up and through short, sandy blonde hair. If Scout wanted to play games, let him, but he would not be the one driving this kiss. Medic finally kissed back with a stronger force.  
He felt Scout’s tongue dipping in between his own lips when he eventually pulled away, leaving Scout a panting, writhing mess. Sweat was collecting on his forehead and his blue eyes were lidded.  
“You have two seconds to explain vhat just happened before I kick you out.”  
“Okay, okay, wait. Doc, you gotta listen to me,” Scout whimpered. “Remember how ya kissed me two weeks ago, an’ you said dat it was ‘just part of zie check-up’? Well, dat makes no fuckin’ sense ‘cause ain’t no doctor done that to me back in Boston. An’ I been thinkin’ about dat kiss dis whole time an’..” Scout looked up with a desperate expression, his mouth twitching open and closed as he attempted to find words. “An’ every time I wanna jerk off, dat stupid, fuckin’ kiss comes to mind and I just can’t do it ‘cause I ain’t ever.. I just.. Doc.”  
“I’m sorry, Schout, but I don’t read minds. If you cannot be more specific, zhen I’m afraid zhat you have to leave.”  
“You kissed me ‘cause you knew! ‘Cause you’re da only guy dat knows I sometimes- maybe like dudes. You’re drivin’ me up the wall, Doc! I need ya to-” Scout swallowed, trembling. “To touch me.”  
“I have too much papervork to finish tonight. You picked one of zhe vorst times to do zhis.” Medic grumbled, watching Scout’s entire body sag. “But-” Scout looked up hopefully. “If you are quiet und do not bozher me, zhen you are allowed to masturbate besides me vhile I vork.”  
“Yes, please! Doc, I- thank you, so much. I promise dat I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m dere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha gotchu. there's no secks in this chapter ( 👁️ ͜ʖ 👁️ ). but stay tuned, because a little birdie told me there's somethin interesting next chapter. 
> 
> thanks for reading so far! hope ya like it. (my first kudo ever was yesterday. celebration time)


	3. Megalomann

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the previous chapter. Scout's an unexpected asset in constructing the Kritzkrieg, but Medic can only view him as a blabbering nuisance. And perhaps something a little more if ya squint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so scout's getting his rocks off and that makes this chapter nsfw. you've been warned

The doctor waved his hand at several of his doves who had been roosting on the arch of an old, wooden chair in the back of his infirmary. He dragged the chair across the checkered floor to the left side of his office desk. He slipped a sideways glance at the Scout, who was still sitting awkwardly upon the exam table.  
“Kommst du?”  
“What’s dat mean?”  
“Scout, sit down before I change my mind,” Medic dully said, taking a seat in his cushioned chair. He plucked the pencil he’d been planning with earlier and began writing as though Scout had never interrupted him.  
The runner practically dove into the wooden chair; almost toppling over when one leg of the chair dipped forward due to it being slightly shorter than the rest. Medic snickered as Scout flailed his arms in surprise at the compromised balance. Perhaps he’d place a book under there later to prevent-  
“No,” Medic audibly scolded himself.  
Scout’s head immediately flew up to look at him, dumbstruck, as though _he’d_ been the one to do something wrong.  
“Nozhing. Nevermind.” Medic clenched the pencil tighter, scribbling out something.  
Scout shrugged, then rocked the chair closer to the desk; closer to the Medic. There was a quiet, barely even there, rustle of fabric. A soft sigh.  
Medic raised his left hand and massaged the side of his face to alleviate a growing tension. He crossed another idea out, writing something below it. His lips pursed and he bit the metal ring of his pencil.  
“Zhe voltage vould be too strong, und zhe healing vould be slower,” he mumbled.  
“What’cha workin’ on?” Scout asked, eyes glossing over the papers.  
“Oh, just some prototypes,” Medic sighed, leaning back into his chair. He unexpectedly threw up his hand and grumbled, “ach! Not even prototypes! Dumm, idiotisch..”  
“What for?”  
“Vell, zhis current design is for somezhing zhat vould provide critical shots instead of an invulnerability charge. But, I cannot seem to calculate zhe mechanisms of it.”  
“Huh. Yanno, it kinda sounds like my Crit-a-Cola, ‘cept way better.”  
“Vait. Vhat did you just say?”  
“Dat it sounds like my Crit-a-Cola..?”  
“Genau!” That was it! Medic didn’t have to work out the mechanisms of critical hits, when the answer had already been generated! All he needed was to use whatever was inside Scout’s drink and modify it. Medic immediately began briskly scribbling in the idea.  
“Heh. Yeah, I know. Pretty smart, aren’t I, Doc?” Scout praised himself by palming his stiffening length though his pants harder. “I’m a regular biochologist.”  
The runner’s words weren’t heard from the doctor, as he was far too entranced by different problems materializing themselves. His happiness was quickly fading back to concentration, his eyebrows knitted and the corners of his mouth dropped like anchors.  
Medic finally came to a halt in his work; even he had limits. His eyes scanned over the writing, which most would identify as chicken scratch. The pencil swung from his fingertips as he waved it back and forth over his work. Yes, that would be enough for tonight. It was late and Medic needed rest.  
All of a sudden, a low moan rumbled left of Medic. Medic flinched at first, then realized who was next to him. He looked over curiously.  
Both of Scout’s hands were wandering over his plump dick. His fingers were ghosting over his cherry tip, thumb encircling the head. Beads of precum leaked from the tip, which he smeared down his shaft with the other hand that had been squeezing the base. His body was curved forward, a sheen of sweat covering his arms and neck. Scout avoided touching himself with the bandages.  
Medic cocked an eyebrow and looked back to his paperwork. Scout _did_ help him discover the solution. Yes, Scout was definitely a resource that could be capitalized on later. He grinned; he’d humor the Scout for now.  
Medic nonchalantly dropped his left hand down to his thigh, carefully sliding it down to rest on his knee. He picked up his pencil with the other hand and wrote lightly, ash colored eyes drifting across the paper. The doctor did not avert his gaze from the workings as he crossed his hand over to rest on Scout’s lower thigh.  
“Doc..?” Scout whimpered, lifting his head to stare with bewilderment. Those clouded, sky blue eyes burned into Medic’s flesh as Scout searched desperately for answers. 

Nothing. 

Medic inched his hand up until it laid on the inner portion of Scout’s thigh, kneading gently into the tense muscle. Scout’s breath hitched.  
“Doc, please- ya gotta, fuckin’.. Touch me already. Please.”  
Medic rolled his eyes, but indulged. His fingers whispered up the shaft, index finger tracing a vein until his hand reached the head. He nudged the runner’s fingers away and finally wrapped his entire hand around the length, giving a quick pump down to the base.  
Scout moaned and clutched the edge of the desk, his other hands’ finger rubbing circles through his shirt around an erect nipple.  
Medic circled a string of writing and sighed, continuing to pump the boy’s shaft at a moderate speed. He skimmed his index finger against the slit and displaced any precum that beaded up.  
“Keep- ah, shit.. Doc, fuck! Dat’s good, I mean.. Dat’s fuckin’- _oohh_ ,” Scout slurred.  
Medic stifled a chuckle; he’d never heard such a slew of curses come from the runner before, except maybe when he was dominated on the field.  
A thought crossed the doctor’s mind and he was reminded that _he_ was dominating the Scout. Now he did nothing to stifle the low chuckle. He picked up speed, squeezing the base every so often.  
“Ach mein, Scout. Look at yourself.. Ekelhaft. You’ve been vanting zhis, ja? Such a disgrace,” Medic couldn’t help but growl. It was important to maintain control and be composed during this, but if Scout kept begging for..  
Medic pumped at an unforgivable pace. Each time he reached the head, Scout moaned needily.  
“I’ma gonna fuckin’-”  
_Come for me._ “Not on zhe desk,” he huffed, thrusting his hand up and palming his scarlet head.  
“Doo _ooc_!” Scout moaned and convulsed, his cock twitching as he came fervently onto Medic’s hand and his own shirt.  
Medic sighed, removing his hand from the runner’s still trembling cock. Come dribbled down his shaft.  
Medic stood up and studied the spent boy. Scout wearily tucked his softening dick back into his boxers, tugging up his sweatpants.  
Medic turned and unceremoniously walked towards the sink, washing away the stickiness coating his hand. After drying his hands with a paper towel, he looked back at Scout, who had his head resting in the crook of his arm, eyes closed.  
“Schout?”  
Medic received no reply.  
“Dummkopf,” he grumbled, turning away and spotting his trench coat hanging besides the door. From experience, Medic had learned the infirmary grew quite chilly during the night. If he awoke to a hypothermic Scout in the morning and had to thaw him out..  
Before the doctor realized it, he was draping the trench coat over the boy’s sleeping frame.  
“Gute nacht, dummer junge,” Medic whispered, then went to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was gonna end the story here but it's gonna keep goin' folks. 
> 
> ekelhaft: revolting/disgusting 
> 
> kommst du: are you coming?
> 
> gute nacht, dummer junge: good night, stupid boy
> 
> genau: exactly


	4. Disregard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to test Medic's theories on the Crit-A-Cola. Scout is forced to accompany the Doctor for the duration, even if he would've rather been out partying with the team.. or did he secretly want to stay with the German?

Medic awoke to a conscious blackness. His eyes were still closed, but he knew it had to be around 6 in the morning. 

Eventually, Medic cracked open his eyes. Sunlight was shining in through the North window, rays of orange filtering through the dusty blinds. White and grey orbs drifted across the room, only illuminated by the sunlight itself. 

Medic rubbed his eyes, then clapped a hand on his desk to retrieve his spherical glasses. He groaned as he sat up in his bed, thrusting the covers off his legs. Work started in 2 hours, thankfully. With some coffee, Medic would be able to start the day. 

He slipped his plaid red slippers over his feet and snatched the robe hanging off the edge of the bed. As Medic pushed open the door that separated the bedroom from the infirmary, he noticed one of two things. The first was that the lights were off, which Medic always left on due to obvious spy reasons. The second was that, with the sunlight flooding through the three windows in the infirmary, he could see his trench coat folded (somewhat) neatly on his desk. Medic didn’t fold his trench coat, _ever_ \- mostly because it left creases in the fabric that he didn’t have time to iron out.

Then it hit him like a freight train. How could he have forgotten the experience between him and the Scout earlier that night? Memories were rushing back to him. Memories of the Scout’s cock and his own hand plastered with the runner’s semen. Medic mentally punched himself for pleasuring the Scout. Now that the Scout had gotten something of a good thing, he would undoubtedly be coming back to receive the same treatment. 

But, the more that Medic thought about his response to Scout’s behavior, the more he remembered his previous plan. Yes, that’s right. He would use the Scout to obtain Crit-a-Cola for the Kritzkrieg. Medic nodded to himself happily. He _knew_ that he would never pleasure the Scout out of pure impulse. Terrify him, maybe, but not pleasure. 

He pushed open the infirmary doors and made his way to the kitchen. 

 

\-----------

 

The whole morning was quite tame. When Medic entered the kitchen, nobody was there, except for the Spy. They shared mutual glares before continuing with their separate morning rituals. 

Medic’s hopes with speaking to Scout before battle were quelled as the five second marker was announced by the Administrator. He hasn’t seen the Scout all morning, even at breakfast! It was only until there were five minutes before battle started had he spotted him. As Medic quickly went to speak with Scout, the Soldier called out for all the mercenaries’ attention. Medic audibly growled as Scout bounced up to the circle of mercs crowded around the strategizing Soldier. 

“One!” rang the Administrator, and Medic had to forget about the Scout. The respawn room door lifted open and the work day began. 

“Victory!” cried the red megaphones as one of the Medic’s allies captured the BLU team’s intelligence. Medic has been blasted by an enemy Soldier’s rockets just before the capture, and was confined behind the respawn room’s glass doors as his teammates enjoyed the humiliation round. Of course, he _wanted_ to be out of the battlefield, slaying the losing team with his bonesaw, but that could wait until later battles. Today’s victory brought the RED team out of their losing streak, and he was sure they would be going out to celebrate this weekend. Even better, today was Friday, which meant the partying would be even fiercer due to the next two days off. Although, none of this applied to the Medic. He never partook in celebrations; the cleanliness of his infirmary was far more preferred than the booze and craziness. 

Eventually his teammates returned to the respawn room, greeting him with high fives and smiles. Medic ignored them and searched the crowd for Scout. He spotted the runner, who was speaking with the Heavy. Medic rushed over to the two mercs, invading both their personal bubbles whilst also interrupting their conversation. 

“Schkout, if you’ve made plans, zhen cancel zhem. I need you in zhe infirmary later tonight. Bring your bat und some of your Crit-a-Cola drink.”   
Scout blinked once, twice, three times(!) before opening his mouth to reply. 

“Is Doktor have date with leetle Scout?” Heavy asked before Scout got the chance to speak. A large, warm hand fell from behind upon Medic’s shoulder. 

Only then did Scout speak up. “Whad’dya mean, date? Course not, I’m no faggot like da Spy! I’m goin’ out with you guys tonight, remember?”

“Heavy think that is not such good idea. You are tiny man! Too small for big drink at bar tonight. You stay here with Doktor and have date.” 

Medic cut in once again and firmly said, “you don’t have a choice in zhis, Scout. I vill have you in my infirmary vhezher you vant it or not. I need to run a few tests on your strengzh.”

Scout rolled his eyes heavenward and let out an exasperated groan, but made no further comments on the topic. 

“Gut,” Medic beamed before turning around and nodding to Heavy, who nodded back. There were many preparations for the approaching experiment, so there was little time to converse. Medic left Scout and his teammates for his infirmary to prepare. 

It was a little around 7:30 when there was an expected knocking on his infirmary doors. Scout had arrived a little later than Medic wanted, but he used the extra time to his advantage; double checking his equipment and even organizing his desk a little. 

Medic thwacked a stack of papers against the hardwood of his table, then set the aligned stack on the desk before turning towards the doors. More knocking reverberated throughout the infirmary, continuing as Medic quickened his pace. 

“Ich komme! Assis kind,” he grumbled as he quickly unlocked the door, allowing the Scout to push it open. 

“He-eey, Doc! I brought da stuff,” the runner said as he strut inside, grinning happily at the doctor. As Scout walked further into the room, Medic bolted the lock again. 

“Perfect. I aschume you vill be vanting to know what zhis experiment entails, so let me explain it in vords you vill understand.” 

“I can tell when ya callin’ me dumb, Doc.” 

“Du _bist_ dumm,” Medic retorted, yet continued with his explanation, “your strengzh vill be measured by zhis device right here.” He motioned towards a dark leather lump with a metallic base underneath it. Each side ran about a foot in length, whilst on the very far right side, a yellowish screen sat connected to the metal base. “You will take your bat and hit zhis leazher surface as if it vere an enemy. I’ll measure zhe average of your strengzh, vhich vill be the control grou-” Medic cut himself off as a clink of glass against wood sounded from his far right.

Scout looked up from setting a tall, clear bottle with a gold label on Medic’s desk. “Oh, uh, yeah. So. Da guys are all goin’ out tonight ta get drunk an’ stuff an’ I didn’t wanna miss out on da party.. So, bein’ da fuckin’ genius I am, I went in t’Heavy’s room and took some’a his vodka! Just thought maybe we could bring da party here, yanno?” 

Medic’s face scrunched up into disgust, his lip curling at the thought of drinking with the Scout. “Nein! I vould join zhe BLU team before ever drinking vith you. Besides, if I drank tonight, zhen zhe variables could turn out wrong. If you’re going to be drunk, zhen make sure you are far avay from me first.” 

“‘Kay! _Ga-eeez._ Take a chill pill, would ya? Here I am, tryin’ ta be nice ‘n shit to ya, but you go off’n insult me. Whatever. Let’s get dis over with.” 

Scout stepped up to the scale with his bat in hand. As he swung at it, mumbling insults under his breath, Medic scribbled down his recordings, averaging them out as he went. At the very end of his experiment, Scout had gone through three of his minicrit-inducing drinks. Medic noticed that Scout’s pupils had dilated from the sugar within the drinks and his arms shook before he swung. Medic decided putting the hyper runner on an IV and sending him to bed with a melatonin would keep him out of his hair for the rest of the night. 

“Ahh, gawd, Doc. I feel like fuckin’ ass.” 

“Ja, ja,” acknowledged Medic. “Keep still on zhe exam table und try to relax. Your dehydration, along vith zhose drinks, vill do zhat.” Medic had inserted the IV line into Scout’s arm only a few minutes after concluding his findings and ending the experiment. He’d give him one bag of fluids, then send him off to his room. 

Medic worked quietly and diligently at his workstation. Different colored vials decorated the black top of the mobile station, while several empty, purple cans sat crushed in the trashcan below. The distilling process would take several hours to complete, so Medic was using his time to observe the drink itself. Bent over, hair disheveled, peering into a microscope, Medic truly looked like the mad scientist he really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey kids this thing cut off real abruptly (again) lol sorry. i just.. i'm making myself write through this boring part as quick as i can cause WHOOOO does this story have some interesting turns! but yeah, boring chapter. don't worry. it's very spicy next chapter uwu. might have to change the rating. who knows??? i actually don't know what chapter this is. 4? yeah lol 4. 
> 
> also i changed the format a bit cause it's probably a little hard to read. sorry lol 
> 
> ich komme. assis kind- i'm coming. you annoying child. 
> 
> du bist dumm- you are dumb


	5. Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scout has helped Medic with his experiment and is no longer needed. But, does the stubborn runner really want to leave without getting repaid for his help?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey fellas, legit secks down there. i'm warning ya, it's pretty spicy (and makes up like the whole chapter)

Medic peered through the eyepiece of the microscope, adjusting the slide beneath the observation lenses. The purple liquid on the slide below had a mostly grainy appearance through the scope (most likely due to the excess amounts of sugar in the drink). The doctor zoomed in more, narrowing his eyes at the specks of green floating amongst the sugars. Quite fascinating..

Foreign hands ghosted over Medic’s tense shoulders. His entire body stiffened at the contact and he paused in his work. Fingers dipped into the fabric of his vest and kneaded at the muscle just above the deltoid. The touch was focused and deep. One hand drifted upwards and gently massaged the side of Medic’s neck. Oh, how after hours of motionlessly sitting at his desk, did those hands feel nice. Medic was just beginning to relax into the touches when he realized _who_ was doing it. 

“Scout, get your boney fingers off of me!” 

The fingers drifted away after the runner groaned. “Ya look so fricken’ uncomfortable, dou! At least lemme give ya a shoulder massage or somethin’.”  
He contemplated this thought. It was odd that the boy offered this, but Medic did have to admit that those hands… felt a bit relaxing. Nothing bad would come from allowing Scout this. In fact, some _good_ might come from recieving a shoulder massage. 

“..Fine. Zhen you are leaving right avay. I have much vork to finish.” 

“I knew ya couldn’t resist dis,” chuckled Scout, sounding too pleased with himself. The hands resumed with their effort. One slid up and down Medic’s spine, whilst the other kneaded firmly into his shoulder. 

Sighing through his nose contentedly, Medic continued with his observations. Without realizing it, he closed his eyes, further enjoying the massage. The hand previously on his spine began palming lightly just under the shoulder blade. Now that felt good.

“Ja, right zhere.” Medic exhaled slowly, completely melting into each touch. His mind was spiraling away from the previous task; thoughts compared to static on a television channel. 

On the other hand, Scout was completely focused on his own task: mollifying the German. It was working far better than he’d planned. “Ya really needed dis, didn’t ya, Doc? Yeah, ya did.” 

Medic grunted in response. 

Scout gradually inched his hands down Medic’s back, then edged them to his sides. He slipped them further down, resting both hands on his lovehandles. 

“Frecher bengel, bist du nicht?” growled the German. Scout swallowed, realizing his cocky mistake. But, before he was able to pull away, gloved hands seized his wrists.  
Medic clutched them firmly, then yanked them forward, wrapping Scout’s arms around his midsection. Scout dared to struggle, afraid of what would happen if he did.

“I-I’m sorry! I’ll leave, I’ll leave! Don’t cut off my hands, please!” 

Medic rolled his eyes, spinning on his heels to face the terrified runner. Scout was quick to retreat after his wrists were released, but Medic was quicker. He reached forward and wrapped a hand around Scout’s neck, jerking him forward. Idiotic boy. He wouldn’t be getting away this time. 

“Please, no! H-help!” he pleaded, desperately attempting to pry off the hand squeezing his neck. 

“Shat up. Meine güte,” Medic grumbled. He leaned forward and tenderly kissed him, enjoying how Scout’s bulging eyes slowly lidded and finally closed. After their kiss had deepened and Scout’s fright was melting into relaxation, the hands previously prying away Medic’s hand found their way around Medic’s shoulders instead. Despite himself, Medic was also relaxing into their kiss. Now both of his gloved hands cradled _Scout’s_ lovehandles. 

Medic eventually broke away, rasping out, “exam table. Now.” This would teach Scout not to try anything in the future. 

Scout was panting, equally out of breath. “If you mean what I think ya mean, den no. I ain’t havin’ my bare ass touch dat cold metal. We’re heading to my room for dis.” 

“Vas-ever,” he grouched, but released Scout’s waist and continued with, “I have to grab somezhing. Go vait by zhe doors.” 

Scout nodded, giddily running towards the doorway. Medic went to fetch the container of lube hidden away in the drawer of his desk. Through the search for such container, he imagined the Scout doubled over, pinned against the exam table. Medic’s slicked cock penetrated his spent pucker and ugh- how long had it been since his last sexual encounter? Medic shamefully discarded the question. Having sex with the runner was not due to pent up lust, but because Scout needed to be taught a lesson. A lesson in which Medic could not be seduced by a simple back rub.

After searching through each drawer ( _twice_!), Medic procured no sort of lubrication. He was sure he’d seen the container under a stack of yellow folders, but things were often misplaced in the infirmary. Scout most likely had lotion in his room, and if not, then saliva would make a fine substitute. 

“C’mon! Ya take forever to do one. fricken. thing,” Scout complained as he intertwined their arms, dragging Medic through the doors and down the hallway. They eventually reached Scout’s door in the thin hallway. The boy twisted the golden handle and pushed open the door, pulling Medic inside. He had little time to survey the dimly lit room before Scout shoved him into the nearest wall. 

“Vhat are you doing?” Medic snapped, propeling Scout back. The arrogance of this boy! Dragging him through the whole base, then pushing him around? Medic was no one’s door mat, and this applied especially to Scout. 

Scout did nothing but produce a taunting smile. Medic frowned angrily as he removed his red rubber gloves. They were tossed to the floor, landing with a threatening smack. This boy was going to be taught respect and obedience. 

Scout’s neck was snatched and pulled forward again, their lips locking in a rough kiss. Warm lips mashed against each other whilst molars clicked awkwardly. An eager tongue drifted along Medic’s lower lip with a soft nip following up. Grunting, Medic begrudgingly allowed the tongue to slip inside his mouth and weave around his own tongue.  
Scout tasted exactly like what Bonk! smelled like, except multiplied by ten. It was an interesting contrast to his bitter coffee; Medic wasn’t repulsed by it as he thought he would be. 

Eventually, Medic had to break away from the frantic kissing to breath, parting with a wet smack. Scout sucked in a couple of heavy breaths, clearly having forgotten to breath during their encounter. The runner’s cheeks bloomed with color whilst his ears and nose had the same red tint. 

“Ya wanna piece’a dis?” Of course, Scout had to go and ruin the steamy moment with a cheap remark. His bucked teeth dug into the bottom of his chapped lip.

“Vill you shat up und get on zhe bed already?” 

Scout hummed in response, smirking at the heated doctor. He backed up to the bed, barely denting the surface of the new mattress as he sat on the edge. He brought up one foot to rest on his thigh, unlacing his red sneakers. Medic mirrored the runner’s actions and removed his own mid-calf boots, except he delicately placed the pair by the door. Scout, on the other hand, simply tossed the sneakers to a towering pile of unlaundered clothes. The next to be thrown mindlessly across the room was Scout’s red t-shirt. His dog tags jingled against his bare chest, metal glinting from the light cast in through the door.

“Can ya, uh, close da door an’ lock it? I mean, no one’s here, but.. just in case dey come back early or somethin’,” Scout mumbled, voice fading out towards the last half.

Medic hesitantly shut the door, yet left it unlocked despite Scout’s wishes. If the team returned earlier and discovered the two.. Medic shuddered at the thought. Scout would be humiliated beyond belief, but Medic would be immune to the embarrassment. In fact, he would enjoy watching Scout hide his face at breakfast and avoiding contact with the other mercenaries.

Medic grunted as he lifted his beige vest up and over his head. It, too, was placed delicately besides his boots. He came to sit next to the Scout, resting his hand on the boy’s upper thigh, stroking it up and down. 

“D-Doc, I.. I wanna..” Scout turned to face him, looking up sheepishly. His fingers brushed over Medic’s, then swept up the doctor’s arm, squeezing the bicep. 

“Vhat is it?” Medic returned, surprised by his own patient tone. “Quickly!” he added, in a much more belligerent voice.

“I wanna kiss ya, aight?” Scout spat. 

Medic huffed, almost immediately leaning forward and capturing him in rough kiss. The hand previously caressing Scout’s thigh now slid up to rest between his chest. He applied a firm pressure with the hand, nudging Scout to lay against the mattress whilst continuing to kiss him. Scout heaved himself up to lay completely parallel on the bed. He sat up on his forearms, lidded eyes watching Medic.

Before their actions continued, Medic removed his spherical glasses, leaned over the bed and placed them carefully under it. Medic finally crawled over the lean body, resting one leg between Scout’s. 

Their kissing became sloppier and deeper, Scout occasionally breaking away to take a sharp inhale. Medic eventually drifted away from the runner’s mouth, peppering kisses against his jaw and neck instead. Lower and lower he drifted, pinching his collarbone between his teeth, gently biting. 

Scout’s head dipped back to reveal more of that sensitive skin. “SSss.. Ah, sh-shit, fuck!” He keened desperately, another chorus of profanities spewing from his swollen lips. 

Chuckling against his neck, Medic began to suck red marks against the skin. Those would be difficult to explain tomorrow morning. 

By the time his mouth had left a sparse trail of hickies down to the left pectoral, Scout was grinding against Medic’s thigh. Sadistically, Medic admired Scout’s rosy pink buds with his tongue. Each time Scout’s hand drifted down to grope at his own aching cock, Medic swatted it away and sucked in an erect nipple. 

“Oh my fuckin’ _Gawd _! Doc, I- I.. quit torturin’ me down ‘ere! I need ya to..” Scout’s sentence dropped to a mumble, although Medic had some idea of what the trembling runner ‘needed’.__

__“Speak up, junge,” Medic hissed, receiving another mumble in reply. “Go on zhen!” Medic ground his knee against Scout’s groin and bit against the tight muscle of his breast._ _

__Scout released a throaty sob. His lip quivered as he sucked in a shaky breath. “I need ya to fuck me already, Doc!” he choked out, voice quavering. The stimulation was bringing Scout to the verge of tears._ _

__Medic’s cock throbbed beneath the confinement of his briefs. The torment had gone on long enough, he decided. Gripping the waistband of Scout’s sweatpants, he pulled down and allowed Scout to shake them off. His own trousers followed suit whilst Scout scrambled out of his underwear, tossing them elsewhere._ _

__“Do you have lotion in here?”_ _

__Scout looked up, a little dumbfounded by the question. “Ya hands ain’t- ooh. I uh.. I got somethin’ else dat’d be better f-fo’ dat.” He leaned over the edge of the bed, quickly grabbed something, then rolled back up onto the mattress._ _

__So that’s where the lubricant went._ _

__“I found dis um.. It’s for da door cause it squeaks sometimes,” Scout quickly explained._ _

__Medic stared at him unhappily._ _

__“Ookaay. Here ya go, den.” Scout handed the container to him, resuming the position of laying._ _

__Medic unscrewed the red cap and dipped two fingers into the viscid substance. He looked onward to the runner, who was biting his lip nervously. Their eyes met and Scout’s legs twitched slightly shut._ _

__“Dat’s fuckin’ cold, man!” Scout yelped and bucked his hips at the frigid touch of lube against his opening. Medic disregarded the grievance and pressed forward, quite literally. He applied a slight pressure with his index finger until the muscle gave way to the first knuckle. Scout became relatively quiet._ _

__After working in to the last knuckle and Medic nudged a second finger against Scout’s opening, did he start expressing his pain verbally. “Doc, I- please, lemme do it. It hurts. Please.”_ _

__Of course Medic was hesitant to accept Scout’s request. The intrigue and masochism of watching Scout squirm from pain and intrusion was valued far above his enjoyment. But, something inside Medic, something deep within the inner workings of his judgement told him that maybe, maybe he should let Scout do this himself._ _

__Medic inched his index finger out of Scout silently and waited. Scout slicked three fingers with lubricant and placed them to his opening. He began to stretch himself with a suspiciously practiced ease._ _

__Medic felt, for once, awkward. While Scout stretched himself, he sat motionlessly watching. He set to work with removing his briefs and lubricating his throbbing length with one hand. The other hand travelled along Scout’s frame, stroking from his neck down to the shoulder._ _

__Scout rocked against the three fingers he had worked up to, moaning desperately. His tightly shut eyes cracked open, revealing glossy, blue irises. The runner’s face depicted nothing but mystified desire._ _

__Each said nothing as Scout removed sleek fingers, wiping them against the crumpled bedsheets. Medic took himself in hand, aligned his length to eager hole, and pressed forward delicately._ _

__Scout cringed as Medic pushed further in. He edged his length further, then paused and allowed Scout to adjust to the girth. Eventually, he reached the base of his own cock. Sweat damped the back of his dress shirt. It was a struggle to maintain his composure and not pound hungrily into the tight heat, but that just meant Scout would be right back in his infirmary to be healed._ _

__Medic’s drifting thoughts were interrupted as a very high pitched squeal vibrated beneath him. His vision refocused on the runner’s face: Scout’s eyes had rolled back and his tongue split the top and bottom row of his teeth. Medic’s curiosity revived and he gave an precise jerk of his hips._ _

__“Gawd! Fuh-uck! Do dat again! Again!” Scout begged and rolled his hips for dear life, attempting to fit more of Medic’s length into him. He _needed_ to feel that jolt of pleasure again.  
“Do you mean zhis?” Medic taunted, pressing the tip of his cock against Scout’s prostate. _ _

__Scout thrashed, bucking spastically. He was crying out like a wild animal that had been struck. This was all but encouragement to the Medic, who began thrusting harder and fiercer into the small boy._ _

__Within a matter of seconds, Scout was clawing at Medic’s shoulders. The boy’s fingertips had to be burning from the friction between cloth and skin. Medic recalled the aloe in his third desk drawer._ _

__Scout’s voice was tight and shrieky as he moaned incomprehensibly, becoming soundless each time Medic ground against his prostate. Medic himself was losing momentum. Each drive of his hips was growing untimed and sloppy. With one last push, Medic came into Scout, grunting blissfully._ _

__Scout couldn’t handle the sensation and immediately came after Medic, arching upwards as white ropes splattered his stomach and chest._ _

__Medic dizzily pulled out of the spent runner and flopped to the side of him. He could catch his breath for a few minutes and then leave. _Yes_ , he thought, _this definitely put Scout in his place.__ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS! i'm back aaaa and surprisingly not dead.. hehe, yeah. sorry about that, but turns out smut is like, really hard to fricken write. i didn't have the motivation to write for it, but i sucked it up and threw together this baby. hope ya like it, cause i'm gonna add a new chapter asap ;) (hopefully)
> 
> frecher bengel, bist du nicht: cocky brat, aren't you? 
> 
> meine güte: my goodness


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